Fiddlesticks

 

The book on Nero was simple – don’t bother him before breakfast. He was, to put mildly, not a morning person. Frankly, it wasn’t always clear to me that he was a person at all. But I’ll leave that to the experts insisting on an autopsy a few thousand years too late. Nevertheless, his post-meal grumpiness, though legendary, couldn’t hold a candle to the lunacy in store for anyone barging in on him pre-sunrise. He had a ritual, a routine that couldn’t be disrupted involving figs, grapes, and maybe a probiotic or two. If you got him sated and wished to bring up the subject of oh, I don’t know, fire safety, you had about three minutes to get your point across.

The story that everyone knows concerning his fiddling while Rome burned is, at best, a gross exaggeration. Because any of us who were there know that such behavior was wildly out of character. Had he been in possession of a wooden stringed instrument, he would’ve used it for kindling. For centuries historians have treated this myth as fact and this fact as the worst thing a ruler could do. I don’t see it. Let’s say he did play a few tunes during the great blaze. Fine. What’s so bad about that? If anything, he was counteracting the horror with a sweet melody. Nowadays, all we get are sirens. 

Fiddling takes practice, but requires very little extra effort. Had he wheeled out a Hammond organ or instructed the entire Roman philharmonic to join him for some blazing arpeggios, then I could understand the moral outrage. Although, even the greatest conflagration benefits from a musical accompaniment. But a little fiddling? Come on now. 

While there was no violin (and there wouldn't be for another thousand years or so), the man was an inveterate fiddler. He did it constantly. With his thumbs, pinkies, index fingers. When a prospective mate asked for his digits, he simply waved. But he had major trouble keeping his hands to himself. And this was long before the advent of pockets. During meals he would tap the plates in an annoyingly rhythmic patter. It wasn’t to get more snacks or the attention of the waitstaff. It was just because he didn’t know where to put his hands when they weren’t helping him shovel food.  

What do we expect from our leaders besides a little humanity? I wish more politicians would take a break from promoting legislation and executive actions in favor of a hobby like fiddling. What did people want? For Nero to put on a pair of work boots and grab a bucket of water? That wasn't going to happen.

So maybe it wasn’t his finest hour. But it still could’ve been worse. Imagine if instead of fiddling he was checking LinkedIn.